


Hate to Love to Lust

by bronzeecho



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Physical Abuse, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 23:26:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/627686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bronzeecho/pseuds/bronzeecho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are good days when Harry can cuddle with Louis and watch something on TV and feel okay, less like he’s walking on eggshells and everything might be okay. Then there are bad days when Louis just explodes, and when he explodes it’s unfailingly Harry he blames for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hate to Love to Lust

**Author's Note:**

> really sorry about this  
> title from kiss me by ed sheeran. the song has virtually nothing to do with the plot  
> I'm not even sure how I came up with this one  
> obviously none of this is real because louis is lovely and he treats harry like an angel and if it was real I would cry  
> er enjoy?

There are good days when Harry can cuddle with Louis and watch something on TV and feel okay, less like he’s walking on eggshells and everything might be okay. Then there are bad days when Louis just explodes, and when he explodes it’s unfailingly Harry he blames for it.

Today is one of those days. Harry is hiding under their duvet before Louis gets home from the bar and he knows, he can practically feel it in his bones that Louis is going to come home in a rage and tomorrow Harry will wake up with bruises to cover up and Louis’ apologies.

As Harry anticipated, Lou bangs through the doorway several long minutes after. Harry’s breath catches in his throat and he squeezes his eyes shut, refusing to let even one tear out. He tries to focus on distracting thoughts while Louis is in the kitchen.

Eventually, he begins whispering a song to himself. _With a feeling I’ll forget I’m in love now..._

Louis storms into the room and drags Harry out of bed, shouting. Harry knows how much Louis hates it when he doesn’t do the dishes correctly and Harry tries to apologise.

Louis just pushes him into the kitchen table, certainly hard enough to leave bruises and it knocks the breath out of Harry.

 _This feels like falling in love..._ Harry tries to escape inside his mind, distract himself. He tries not to let the sting that erupts across his cheek pull him out of it.

Sometimes Harry feels like Louis hates him. Sometimes he wonders if he’s trapped here. Sometimes he wonders if Louis ever really loved Eleanor and resents Harry now... He tries to focus on the days when Louis’ eyes light up and he tells Harry he loves him.

Harry still loves Louis even through this, and he knows he always will. Right now, it feels like this knowledge hurts worse than the split lip and bruised cheek and side and black eye.

_From hate to love; from love to lust; from lust to truth..._

Harry stumbles as Louis drags him out of the kitchen, finally pulled from his thoughts. This has only happened once before, after a fight. It still hurts to think about and Harry would never admit this to anyone but he’s had nightmares about it and he was so scared he couldn’t look at or touch Louis for a week.

Louis shoves Harry roughly onto the bed and undoes his pants. Harry is shaking so badly Louis has to hit him to get him to still. Harry wishes the hit would have knocked him out so he wouldn’t have to go through this again. The tears rush out of his eyes and pour over his cheeks and Harry doesn’t try to stop them and he knows Louis is so drunk that he doesn’t care, if he even notices.

He tries to remember when things were really good, back when they were still young and stupid and absolutely head over heels. All the good memories he knows they have, the memories he clings to and pretends aren’t gone. They’re disrupted by the pain; Louis’ every breath, panting from exertion, reeking of alcohol; the dry, horrible, ache; he ignores the bile in the back of his throat and pushes it back down.

When Louis is done he leaves, slamming the bedroom door behind him. Harry curls up on the bed, shuddering violently. His body is wracked with sobs and he’s so cold; he tries to curl in on himself, disappear, cease to exist. He isn’t sure how long he lies there, but he doesn’t disappear, the pain doesn’t stop, he doesn’t even fall asleep.

_I was made to keep your body warm, but I’m cold as the wind blows..._

He knows he shouldn’t, but he still loves Louis. Even through this, even through everything. And that hurts worst of all.


End file.
